Natus Sum Paratus
by Truckage
Summary: This is the story of how our Greek and Roman campers prepare for the upcoming war. As the seven chosen demigods and Nico are in the Mediterranean, Camp Jupiter marches on Camp Half-blood in the next American Civil War. This is the story of their preparation. Review to let me know how it is.
1. Chapter 1: War

Clarisse

There was a war brewing. The Romans were going to attack. Percy, Annabeth, Jason, Leo, and Piper weren't there to protect the camp. I needed to lead and protect what was mine.

We had 4 weeks until the Romans attacked, meaning that we needed to train as hard as we could in order to fend off their organized army. Chiron had appointed me as leader of the Camp. I couldn't let him down.

At 4:00 AM, I rose to go train at the arena. I was angry, frustrated, and terrified. I knocked down dummy after dummy. After going all out for about 45 minutes, I felt it. A chill shivered down my spine. I sensed a presence behind me. Something terrifying, something dreadful, something full of despair.

I wheeled around to find... myself. But I was different. It held a broken spear in its right hand, a tattered white flag in its left. But its eyes, they weren't mine. They were glowing red, and it was smiling with an evil grin. Its battle armor was torn to shreds and covered with dirt and grime.

"Good morning, sister," it said with an oddly familiar evil male voice.

"Wh-who are you?" I stammered.

"You should recognize your own half-brother, shouldn't you Clarisse?" It grinned again, "I am Deimos, immortal son of Ares, personification of sheer terror of war, and your worst nightmare."

I instantly remembered where I had heard his voice before. His mere presence was absolutely terrifying, yet I couldn't quite comprehend his appearance. "W-what are y-you doing here?"

"You need help don't you? The Olympians are in recluse, but I, a minor god, am free to do what I please. I am here to help you train for the next American Civil War, Clarisse."

"Why do you l-look like me?" I stammered.

"As I said, I am your worst nightmare, the personification of the terror of war. What do you fear most, Clarisse? It's defeat, isn't it? Now do you understand why I appear the way I do?"

I suddenly understood. He was what I feared most: a defeated version of me in war. The white flag of surrender. The broken spear. The tattered armor. Defeat to the Romans. Deimos.

Feeling a bit more brave, I said, "I can train just fine by myself."

"No you can't. You're inhibiting your potential, sister. You could be so much stronger than you are. You could be stronger than any other demigod, Clarisse," he was no longer smiling. "Sister, I am the sheer terror of war. In order for you to defeat the Romans, you need to defeat me. You need to overcome your terror."

I trembled and I realized that this could make me better. This training could make me better than him. Than Percy.

"Now that you have decided, let us begin."


	2. Chapter 2: Terror

Clarisse

"Now that you have decided, let us begin."

I asked, "where do we sta-" abruptly he swung his broken spear at me. My ADHD instincts immediately kicked in and brought up my shield to defend myself.

Like a wild beast, he began swinging the jagged wooden pole at me in slashes. His eyes were glowing with a menacing hunger like a wolf. He licked his lips as he struck, frothing a bit at the mouth. The swings were heavy, like a boulder crushing my shield arm in every strike. But I could still take him. Then, out of the blue, Deimos swept out my feet with the white flag.

I tried to crawl away backwards before he could strike again, but he was too fast. He struck with his seemingly unbreaking broken spear and my shield was swept out of my hand.

He climbed on top of me and snarled, "Not good enough, sister."

I thought that he would climb off and help me up, but like a ravenous beast, he reared his arm back and drove the stake through my body.

The pain was agonizing. Blood coursed through the wound. I had lost. The stake penetrated through my chest. It was horrible but it only lasted a second.

The pain was gone. Deimos had disappeared. I looked up and there was no wound on my body. There were no bruises. But I remembered the pain. My arm crushing under his overbearing strikes. My chest punctured by the jagged wooden Maimer. It was there. It was so real.

"What happened?" I looked around. "Where are you? Why doesn't it hurt?"

"In order to conquer fear," I wheeled around, "you must realize that it does not actually exist. But the pain you experience from war and fear is most certainly real," he said. There he stood again, having quickly materialized ten feet in front of me.

"If there is one thing you must remember, it is that the only reason that I exist is because people are afraid of war. People create me. I am merely a personification of the sheer terror of war which people possess. As the saying goes you think therefore I am," he grinned.

"Is any of this is real?" I asked.

"As real as this is to you."

Out of nowhere he appeared right in front of me and began to swing with the broken Maimer. He knocked me across my face. My face went limp. Blood splattered out of my mouth. My limp corpse fell to the ground.

He climbed on top of me in a grapevine lock. He struck me again. The pain was too much. My entire body was limp and numb on the floor of the arena.

"In order to defeat the Romans, you need to defeat me." He swung again. More blood ran.

"You need 2 things to defeat me." He struck my face. My eyes were swollen, black, and closed.

"The first is you need to acknowledge my existence, or rather the lack thereof." Another strike.

"And second you need to channel your anger." Yet another strike.

"Your anger." Yet another strike.

"Your hate." Another swing. My face was badly bruised.

"Your discontent." Another.

"Your inadequacy." He swung again.

"Your weakness." He struck.

Suddenly I remembered my own presence. I remembered my own life. I remembered Camp. I remembered Chris. I remembered Percy and Annabeth. I remembered Silena. Then I remembered what I was fighting for. I remembered the Romans, how they wanted to destroy the one place I could call my home. I remembered my jealousy of Percy. I remembered my father's disappointment in me. I remembered that there were people trying to destroy my friends and people that were trying to hold me back. I couldn't stand all of it. I was mad. I was angry.

Then I opened my eyes to look into the demonic eyes of my truly defeated self, Deimos. He saw me, and he nodded in, was it understanding? He looked at me, almost sad, as if saying a goodbye. He said, "I am not gone."

I channelled my anger into one strike. I rose and reared up Maimer, cackling with red electricity. I felt the conviction, emotion, and pure evil in my one strike. It barreled straight through my half brother. As it landed its target, Deimos disappeared. He was nowhere to be seen.

My own Deimos was gone.


End file.
